As In Mine
by Voice-sama
Summary: As punishment for defying the Pharaoh, Malik is set in the middle of the desert. Though who said he can't choose a king for himself? TKBxMalik


Title: As in mine  
Author: Kitteh  
Date: 05-12-21  
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh, it's characters, and all plot relations, belong to Kazuki Takashi…and not me sniff Although, do not steal my plot, or I shall…er…yeah. Fear!

The night of question was dark, yes it was. Stars twinkled above, sure, but it was new moon, and therefore, the usually large, pale ball was nowhere to be seen. The shadows were thick, the royal guards were grumpy, and the people of the night had free reign.

There were only few houses someone dared to light a candle in because it was dangerous at night…especially in nights like this one, when thieves and criminals and demons were said to go around and they would not only rob you, but kill you as well if you resisted – and admitting you were awake was, of course, resistance.

In nights like these, crimes were done, and events were had that no one would believe…like now.

Quite a few miles away of Thebes, the city of the Pharaohs, stood the shadowy, eerie ruin of a temple. And towards the temple, a group of people were headed, laughing roughly and telling nasty jokes…a group of five tall, burly men, clad in a breast armour with a tunic beneath that reached their knees, simple sandals encasing their feet. Some wore helmets, others didn't. Five of those men, and six horses.

The sixth horse, a pristinely white one, was held between two others, one black and one brown, and even in the lightless night, the animal stood out like a sore thumb. Of course it wasn't trotting along alone – like the other horses, it had a rider, although this one did not participate in the laughter and jokes, or anything else for that matter. Like his horse, he stood out against the group; a slender figure sitting completely straight even though his wrists were bound behind his back and the rough rope was cutting into the tender skin, looking to be the colour of caramel all over.

As a large hand came to grab a lightly pointed chin and force the head around, the man grabbing paused for a moment as he was glared at by pale lavender eyes, gemlike in the dim light, sharp and narrowed beneath dark golden bangs. Although he couldn't falter, he was a tough man and a royal guard, was he not? Yes, he was. And he wasn't to be intimidated by a pretty face.

"Such a cute thing, did you guys look at him?" The chin in his hand gave a jerk, as the boy seemed to try to free himself of the rough grip, which became harder afterwards.

"Careful, you wouldn't want to hurt the child. The Pharaoh will have your head."

"Why does he send us out here to dump the child in the middle of the gods damned desert and cares about him being hurt?"

The other guard smirked, first at his fellow guard, then right into the youth's face, who stared back defiantly.

"This is punishment."

"Oof!"

Malik glared up, teeth gritted, at the guard that had shoved him right off the horse into the sand, which, usually soft and grainy, was as hard as wood for the moment his behind landed there. Evil. Yes, evil. A quick look around and he noticed that indeed he wouldn't be able to walk back to the city before dawn, which would mean he would dehydrate and fry in the hot sun. Just great!

"Look at the kid, what a price he is..", one of the men he despised so much said, smirking that scary grin again. Others joined into the grin, gazes fixed on the sole long, slender leg, caramel coloured, bare to the very upper thigh, the hips which the only clothing the youth wore was wrapped around - it consisted of a mere sheet of cream coloured silk, riding low on the blonde's hips, with a slit up almost to the hip that exposed one leg completely- or the helpless seeming pose, sprawled in the sand from the fall, supporting himself on his elbows. Dark blonde bangs fell into his eyes and were angrily blown away.

"I can only imagine those plush lips around my cock.", said another of them, the one next to him laughing and reaching for the sprawled out boy and was promptly scratched as Malik hit at his hand with his fingers curled, fingernails raking across the rough skin.

"Ow! What a little wildcat."

Unfortunately, the man didn't seem to mind being scratched so much.

Fortunately, the head guard shook his head disapprovingly and whistled them back.

"Leave the child alone and let's go."

And so they did, leaving Malik behind in the desert … which he found grew colder by the minute as he watched them leave. But he wouldn't call after them, no he wouldn't. Scrambling to his feet, he wrapped his arms around his bare upper body against the cold and turned around himself once, slowly. Sand … sand…more sand, wherever he looked. Bloody great. He couldn't hate the Pharaoh more this very moment.

Yet someone else watched them, watched the child being pushed to the ground, the idiot guards leering at him, watched the guards leave and the child get up. Sharp, dark blue eyes narrowed with a smirk. The night was dark, yes, but then again, tombs were dark as well. The mighty King of Thieves was very well able to see in the dark. And so he kept watching, what a delightful little thing indeed, for once he had to agree with the idiot guards…just this once. Once was nothing.

The mighty King of Thieves -well, he figured he was, at least, who else had robbed so often from the tombs of the Pharaohs, after all?- decided to stay put and wait. Morning wasn't far anymore, and then his superior plan would step into action. Once he had figured it out, that was.

A pout settled firmly on his lips, Malik dusted the sand off the garment he wore. He wished they hadn't taken his cloak now, although their orders hadn't involved the warming piece of clothing … just doing it to be cruel. The icy night would freeze him now, and the sun would scorch him during the day. All he had was the fine silk swaying around his legs, and that wasn't very warm, now was it?

He went over to the ruins and hopped onto a cracked off piece of it, a large boulder that may had once been the head of a tall, mighty statue; it was smoothed of any features and lines it may have had by the sandstorms blowing around this area. The blonde propped one bare foot onto the jutting out part that he figured had been the nose, rested an elbow on the knee, and propped his chin into his palm. All he could do was wait now. Maybe they would come back soon…

It was awhile later that he noticed he had fallen asleep, because you can't wake up if you're not sleeping. A movement awoke him, a motion that shouldn't be in this very part of the wide desert… what if there were monsters out here? The people of the village he came from had always told the children to not go out into the desert alone. There could be lions. Malik always thought this was stupid. Everyone knew lions ate meat, and where should be meat in the desert! His questions always brought a frown to the elders. They are fed with the flesh of curious children. As if that would shut him up. Hah!

The boy straightened and stretched, but quickly wrapped his arms around himself again as the cold night air began to gnaw at his vulnerable sides. Evil air!

The desert was pretty, Malik noticed. Even at night. At day, too, of course, at day it was golden and warm and desperately gorgeous. But he had never seen the desert at night, and it was difficult to decide which desert he liked better. Even without the moon, the dunes seemed to glow, almost white. White like…hey, that wasn't a dune!

He slid off the boulder smoothly, without a sound, as the white thing moved again, quickly, soundlessly as well. Great. If not lions, it was just his luck to meet demons!

Large, pale lavender eyes glanced over the top of the boulder, topped by a mop of dark golden hair, and Bakura had to chuckle. Almost. As if he didn't see the kid! Bwah! It felt good to frighten someone. Very good. He straightened up and approached the boulder, casual as it seemed, the blood red cloak billowing around him. Long, confident strides. Roughly wound sandals, they did the job. Legs bare to mid-thigh, where the short kilt started that wound around his hips with the help of a nicely made belt. Muscles rippling in abdomen and chest, broad shoulders hidden by the beginnings of that cloak. Oh yes, Bakura knew he was gorgeous. And seeing the child's eyes widen only stroked his ego more.

He heard the sharp intake of breath as he plopped down on the boulder easily, whereas the other had to climb up almost. With his side to the boy, he couldn't grin without blowing his cover … but he could reach and touch amazingly soft hair, by accident of course. Dark blue eyes glanced down inquiringly, meeting pale lavender again, and there was a moment of silence.

The prologue. The actual chapters will be longer. nod


End file.
